


In The Closet

by silverfoxarchive (rougescribe)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Comedy romance, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slightly Smutty, attempt at lime, cockblocked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rougescribe/pseuds/silverfoxarchive
Summary: There were many things that could be said about Laxus. Strong, dependable, a Mage who can get things done. - but there is one thing that Freed and the rest of the Raijnishuu keep to themselves: His complete inability to keep track of schedules. Rated for Limey Adult Situations at Beginning.
Relationships: Laxus Dreyar/Freed Justine
Kudos: 60





	In The Closet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [furidojasutin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furidojasutin/gifts).



> Gift for Furidojasutin from Tumblr!

There was nothing to be said about Laxus’ power and ability to complete anything he set his mind to with little difficulty. From assisting the rebuild efforts of the Guild, to dangerous S-Class jobs: He never broke a sweat. Strong and capable were modifiers to his name and Laxus wore them with pride. Even when he worked for Blue Pegasus. No one, not a soul, could say he wasn’t a good example for wizards through all of Fiore. 

Unfortunately, no one knew him like his closest friends. The Thunder Legion saw the cracks others would miss. The poor sense of direction. The socially awkward moments with women and men alike as they fawned and idolized him. Most of all, the one that a certain Rune Mage noticed- was his absolute poor attention to time and schedules.

Did you make a lunch date with him, just for friendly chit chat, two weeks in advance? Forgotten. Mis-timed. Mismanaged. Never on purpose. His organization was questionable at best, often handled by Freed carefully reminding him or Bixlow and Evergreen needling him with jibes and nudges with their elbows. Friendly teasing, but the point never failed to sour his mood, hiding the subtle hint of a blush that blotted the tips of his ears. 

Laxus was not a man of schedules. Freed knew this. 

Freed knew it and he should have expected it. Planned for it even. Reminded Laxus to check on any recent obligations. Yet, somehow, it reared its ugly head at the worst of times. 

The knock on the door came when the two were enjoying time against the black, silky sheets of Laxus’ mattress. “You’re not goin’ anywhere,” He had growled- sending shivers down Freed’s spine as he attempted to dress for the day. Clothes never made it on his body. Half worn pants were cast aside and stubborn hands pulled him down to drown within the blankets. 

Freed hadn’t resisted. Grasping Laxus’ broad shoulders to hold him on the bed, they played a riveting game of dominance with the other. Cat and mouse. Who would win? Who would give in? Many times, it ended with Freed overcome by Laxus’ heated, open mouthed kisses along his neck and collar bone- hands grasping his hips as they sent each other to bliss. Other times, it was Freed who came out on top- far more lithe and easier to slip away when he wanted. Teasing Laxus with hands and mouth only to pull away before he could topple over the edge. Over and over until they both finally sated themselves with the other. 

That morning was Freed’s turn. A sneaky smirk was Laxus’ only warning before he’d escaped the bedsheets and with surprising force, rolled Laxus to his back, straddling his hips in one fell swoop. His green locks draped down his shoulders in a messy curtain as he teased his pelvis against Laxus. A building pressure through the fabric of their boxers that left Laxus panting and snarling through his teeth. 

“Since I’m not leaving,” Freed purred, stare piercing though thick lashes, “I may as well make the best of it.”

The immediate reaction was Laxus’ hardening cock, bulging through the fabric of his boxers. It empowered Freed. His hips rolled and the teasing continued as Laxus grasped his hips. He bared his teeth- impatience burning beneath his skin. “Damnit, Freed, this ain’t what I had in mind when I said that!!”   
  
“But it IS what I had in mind.” Freed said, grinning wickedly. 

His hand snuck between their bodies, grasping Laxus’ thick organ through the slit in his boxers, pulling it through to tease it between his thighs and fingers, but he didn’t deny Laxus too much. Freed’s own need for touch dried his mouth and he fell forward, groaning, eagerly sliding his lips against the others to trade their need in a way that didn’t require verbal communication. 

Tongues pushed against the other and lips sucked and pulled. Their breathing intermingled in hot pants while logic and thought was replaced by the intense desire to taste and fulfill the others growing needs. Freed’s hand never ceased in it’s exploration. He pumped along the length of Laxus’ shaft in swift, shallow strokes before teasing the base. Each, jolting move and change of speed pulled more delicious grunts from his lover’s lips. Freed loved these moments. He loved the power he could hold over another, impossibly strong man, but most of all, he loved-

The knock slammed through them like a nail splintering wood. They froze, eyes wide. It came again seconds later. It rapped so loud, it sent echoes down the hall and the walls vibrated. Freed’s grip remained against Laxus’ turgid, far from flaccid length and loosened while he stared at the other. His face changed from sexual heat to a slowly rising and panicked embarrassment.

Laxus stared back, equally befuddled. 

Another knock. “Laxus?”    
  
“.... err.. Yeah?” It came again. 

“.... did you forget something?”

His brows knitted together and he frowned, “do you really think I’m THAT bad?”

Freed opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but was interrupted by a knock so loud he jumped in place. “I’m inclined to… well- question that right now.”

Another loud, booming knock and Laxus growled, “Just ignore it then. Whoever it is, they’ll get the hint and leave.”

As if the world was bent on proving him wrong, they reacted on reflex when an entirely different sound came from the entrance. The telltale sound of squeaking hinges and a door slamming open as it bounced against the wall. Many things happened at once. Freed tumbled off Laxus in a flurry of limbs, sheets and cascading hair and Laxus sat up, snarling at the door as if prepared to maim whoever dared break into his home. 

“Laxus?” The familiar, wizened voice of Makarov broke through the house, tentative and curious, “are you still sleeping?”

The revelation of what was happening came quick to both of them. Freed whirled upon his partner, startled. “The Master?! Does he often come here uninvited?!”   
  
Laxus stared as he collected his thoughts. After a few seconds he shook his head, “The old man is nosy but he ain't that ba-” a pause and realization struck like a bag of bricks, “- shit.”   


“What? Shit what?” Freed hissed, his voice now a low and hurried whisper.

Laxus ears were burning as he palmed his face. “We were s’posed to have brunch.”

“You mean to tell me you really forgo-!” 

Footsteps were coming to the door and Freed’s mouth shut. They hadn’t revealed their relationship to him. Not yet. For many reasons, they just weren’t ready to take that step and here they were, about to be discovered with their pants down. Obvious tension on  _ erect _ display. 

“I can hear you scuffling around in there, Laxus! Why are you ignoring me?” He was coming closer. Close enough that all thoughts between the two fled through the window and instinct took hold. Grabbing the blankets, Laxus quickly covered his lower half and angled himself to hide the evidence. 

Falling into flight mode, Freed made for the nearest escape: the closet. The door clicked shut just in time for Makarov to stroll through the main door, mustache twitching while his nose scrunched at the scene. 

Laxus’ expression was dour, staring at the door as he affected nonchalance and apathy. The two stared from one to the other for seconds, but for the man in the closet, it felt like an eternity of silence. When it seemed the two Dreyar’s would only continue to study each other, Laxus inhaled to speak.

Makarov was quicker. “We planned brunch today.” It was a statement that fell between them like a sack of cement. Laxus resisted the urge to grimace, knowing Freed would use it against him later. Instead, he screwed his expression into a frown and grumbled. 

“I don’t remember that meaning you get to walk in whenever you want, old man.” He said with a growl that rumbled in his low baritone. It was meant as a warning, a reproach. One that was ignored.

“You gave me a key.” Makarov reminded, shrugging. “I worried you might be sick or something. Is there a reason you didn’t show up?”

“Tch, well- it wasn’t ‘cause I forgot. I didn’t.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The look on Makarov’s face was nothing short of dubious. Though short in stature, his presence felt like a mirror to his giant magic and after another pause, Laxus looked away. Stubborn pride dusted his cheeks as he spoke under his breath. 

“What was that?”

“Ugh, you’re too nosy!” Laxus said., eyes sparing a glance to his closet before he added, “I just didn’t have any clean clothes.”

The room was silent. Makarov looked to Laxus and Laxus looked to Makarov. The expression on their faces spoke volumes. 

Makarov’s nose twitched, rustling his mustache as his eyes surveyed the room, as if attempting to calculate the accuracy of Laxus’ words. “No clean clothes?” 

His tone was hollow in it’s reiteration and Laxus pulled the best expression of indifference he could muster. “Yeah that’s right. Your hearing isn’t going out is it, old man?”

“You’re serious? This is the hill you’re standing on, Laxus?”

His eye twitched as he cleared his throat. “You saying I’m lying? About clothes? Really.”

“All right…” While in the closet, Freed couldn’t see their expressions, but his own was hidden in his palm. Makarov sounded disbelieving, amused even while Laxus…  _ Good grief, aren’t you a better liar than that? _ He thought. His body stiffened amidst the thick coats and shirts that hung beside him, realizing belatedly that Makarov had begun to move. 

Soft steps through the room, becoming louder and louder as he approached the closet. Freed covered his mouth to mute his own breathing and further attempted to hide himself amidst the mixed fabrics. 

“What,” Laxus sat up, almost dropped the blanket from his hips, and quickly readjusted, “What are you doing?”

“I’m looking for clean clothes.” Makarov stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I never imagined you for a slob, and if the nearby hamper is empty, then I can only assume they’re in the wash or-” 

His hand grasped the closet knob, “stuffed inside your closet.”

“It’s not like I’m going to step all over my clothes,” Laxus defended, “so what if they’re in there? My closet is none of your business, anyway.”

“True, but -” And Makarov’s gaze slid mischievously back towards his grandson, eyes gleaming, “if that was all, then why look so nervous, Laxus?”

He had no chance to answer as Makarov turned the knob and flung the doors open. No clothes slid out. No obvious piles of dirty, unwashed pants or boxers littered the ground. There was just a mass of shirts, fur-lined coats and shelves housing boots, socks and other unmentionables. All the things one would assume to be in a closet and one extra Freed, partially stuffed behind the thickest coat he could find, but the green of his hair stood out like a sore thumb. 

“Uhm-” He began, only to fall silent when Makarov grabbed the coat and slid it in front of his face as if he hadn’t noticed a man hiding in his grandson’s clothes. He sifted from shirt to coat, from coat to shirt, hemmed and hawed away as he chuckled.

“Now, would you look at this!” He exclaimed, “Not a single dirty item in sight! I see you have plenty of options, m’boy. Shirts, pants,” And he opened one of the shelves to find the carefully folded pants that looked far too tidy to have been done by Laxus alone, “Socks and briefs- in fact, they look freshly washed even. Are you sure you’re not wanting to admit to forgetting you had plans with me?”

Laxus balked, “That’s- look, I didn’t forget a damn thing, now would you get out of there-”

He continued sifting, grasping the first coat to bring it out once more, revealing Freed’s flustered, but now scraggly hair falling before his face. “Oh! Hello Freed, I hope you’ve had a good morning, at least.”

The coat moved before him yet again and Makarov shut the door, looking unperturbed, but highly amused. The telltale sputters of Freed’s confusion echoed from the closet as he struggled to move out from the mass of clothes Makarov had flung against him and the Fairy Tail Guild Master raised a brow towards Laxus. The silent point hung in the air. 

Laxus managed to look guilty in that moment as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “Yeah, fine, so I forgot. You happy?”

Makarov smiled, “Was that so hard?” Laxus rumbled his response, his patience running thin. He waved a hand to back off and turned to exit the way he’d come. “No need to answer. How about we reschedule for tomorrow, then?”

Quite put out, Laxus grunted, “Fine.”

“Excellent!” He paused at the door, looking back as he chuckled, resembling a cat that had caught a canary, “Oh and Laxus?”

“What?”

“Bring Freed would you? I’m sure your boyfriend would appreciate a meal too.”

The door shut and Laxus gaped.

Both Freed and Laxus held their breaths. One still naked in his bed, the other still traversing the closet as he clamored out through the door. Makarov’s footsteps echoed down the hall, to the front doors, and much like his entrance, he left without another word. 

Head peeking from the closet door, Freed looked to Laxus, but Laxus wasn’t looking at Freed. 

“.... when did you tell him?” He asked, under the impression their relationship had been a tight-lipped secret from everyone but the two currently in the room together. Laxus, ears brimming with a redness Freed relished despite the situation, finally met his gaze and shrugged.

“I didn’t.” He said., “but are you coming to breakfast tomorrow or not?”

The implication was clear. Unspoken, but understood. Coming with meant admitting to what Makarov obviously knew. To be comfortable in the fact and allowing others to see what was between them. A thrill ran down Freed’s spine as he smiled. 

“I’d love to.”

**Bonus Scene - A convo During Breakfast**

“Were you SPYING on us or something?” The question was pointed and Makarov’s lips twitched in his attempt to hide his grin. 

“Well now,” He drank from his mug, gulping down the substance without a care towards Laxus’ accusing stare. Makarov’s smirk over the rim was devious, “did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

Freed and Laxus looked towards each other and shrugged, “That was the point in keeping it quiet.” 

Makarov couldn’t hold it. He burst into laughter and slammed the mug down, “How would I NOT know after what you two did on the upstairs floor? I might be old, but I’m not oblivious!”

Their jaws dropped.

_ Well, shit. _


End file.
